


Cracks in the Ice

by Nynaeve



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nynaeve/pseuds/Nynaeve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kathryn has always been bound by honor and duty. It's why he loves her and why she remains elusively out of reach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cracks in the Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrLizThirose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=DrLizThirose).



> Written for Secret Santa 2011 on VAMB. The request by DrLizThirose – J/C with the line "Take me, I'm yours" used non-sexually. Thanks to quantumsilver for beta reading. The main story is T (PG-13) and the epilogue runs a light R rating. Read, review, but as always, enjoy.

She's sitting on a bench by a frozen lake, wrapped in a large coat with a hood that conceals most of her face. He takes a moment to observe her, unguarded; Kathryn is a mystery to him even on the best days. That she was cut from a different cloth was apparent the second their eyes first met and he continues to try to understand her peculiar nature, failing more often than not. A bitter breeze wisps across his cheek and he shudders. Beneath his boot the snow crunches and she glances up.

"Is everything all right?" Her nose is red from exposure to the cold air, a contrast to the grey-blue of her eyes that fit the decor of the winter scene.

"Everything's fine. We've had a few hiccups, but nothing that B'Elanna's team can't handle." Chakotay settles on the bench next to her. He's glad he opted for thermal underwear as the uncovered skin protests against the chill. "I thought I might see what drew you to this particular climate. Everyone else is eager for the sunny beaches in the northern hemisphere."

She manages a weak smile and it's then that he notices the distance in her gaze. His arrival brought her back from somewhere else; she hasn't been watching the world in front of them. The realization brings with it a sense of guilt at having interrupted her private musings and he clears his throat.

"You know, I remembered something I need to do," he hastily explains.

"Stay," she requests, and it  _is_  a request. He can feel the weight of the aura around her even if he doesn't know the cause. Kathryn has shared with him many personal moments over the years, the single exception being her grief, which she keeps locked away for the sake of her sanity and her crew. Chakotay sees it now, in the lines around her eyes and lips. She smiles a great deal and he has often suspected that she cries just as much. Without makeup, accented by a smattering of freckles, he has his evidence.

"Does this remind you of home?" he asks. Light flakes begin to fall from the sky and he follows a single speck that lands on his coat and melts away. "Is this what winter is like in Indiana?"

Her ghost of a smile widens. "I suppose it does. When I was a little girl I would sit at the window and anxiously wait for snow. It meant Christmas was coming. There would be a tree, lights, and gifts."

"Christmas? That's an ancient Earth holiday isn't it?"

"I grew up Traditionalist, remember? We celebrated several ancient holidays. Christmas was my favorite," she reminisces. Snowflakes dust her golden lashes and reminds Chakotay of an old story about winter fairies that he read about once as a child. The light that was awakened inside her by happy memories winks out and she inhales crisp air. "I guess I really do miss it."

Her melancholy goes deeper than she's revealing, he's been at her side long enough to recognize her subtle evasive maneuvers. She's talented at keeping everyone precisely where she wants them to be; it's a gift born of a natural leader. It's also a manipulative tactic to maintain the barriers of safety carefully installed and sealed tightly. He wants to prod more, to coax out of her the secrets she clearly thinks no one else can help her carry, like her guilt. The problem has been and continues to be his inability to know exactly how far her self-recrimination goes. She has a tendency to end her stories with vague references that a less learned companion would miss.

One day, Chakotay vows, he'll push, but today isn't about Kathryn's secrets. "Would you like to go get some hot coffee?"

"Only if you're buying," she replies, her darkness fading into her, back into the vault of her psyche. Her dour mood is replaced with a genuine grin and the tension from her shoulders disappears.

"Of course," he answers as he rises and holds out a hand for her.

"In that case, take me, I'm yours!" she accepts as she slips her gloved hand in his. He won't let her hide for too long, he promises himself, although he's not certain he knows when the right time will be and he admits a certain degree of selfishness in wanting her to laugh over steaming beverages.

They've found a rare planet, not only is it a hub of commerce and trading which forces the various nations to work together, but they welcomed  _Voyager_  with open arms. Considering their journey, Chakotay can count on one hand the amount of times they've had a chance to simply relax and take in the scenery. Kathryn eagerly accepted the offer of a two week stay and when her first officer had suggested that she take time herself, she hesitated only a nanosecond. He's taken every precaution to make sure she's not disturbed. He doesn't linger when he finishes his last swallow of the planet's version of coffee, instead opting to quickly retreat back to  _Voyager_. He's rewarded with a squeeze of his hand before the transporter whisks him away.

"Commander!" Neelix's voice interrupts his private jaunt to his quarters. Despite the regulated temperature of the ship, he feels chilled in a way he hadn't while in Kathryn's presence. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"What's the problem? We didn't get another rat in the foodstuffs did we?" he asks, expecting the worst. He'd effectively lied to Kathryn while on the planet, not wanting to worry her with what were unrelated secondary systems failures across the ship. He'd actually been delayed getting down to her by a malfunctioning transporter that simply refused to turn on.

The stout Talaxian blinks, caught off guard momentarily by Chakotay's half-joke. "No. No, I'm certain we flushed them all out at our last stop." He loses his train of thought, now clearly concerned for the state of  _Voyager's_ pantry. It's all Chakotay can do not to sigh. He prides himself on his patience, but Neelix stretches him thin most days.

"I'm rather tired, Neelix. What is it?"

His words refocus the self-appointed morale officer who goes from frowning to puffing out his chest in effusive enthusiasm. "I've been approached with a most generous offer. The Unified Planetary Committee Ambassador has requested that she be allowed to host a party that celebrates a festival native to the Alpha Quadrant. Apparently it's an election year and everyone wants a chance to shake hands."

"We have a lot of diversity even on our ship. Did you have a particular holiday or festival in mind?"

"That's the problem! I can't decide. I've tried hard over the years to make sure everyone has some type of celebration that reminds them of home, but I'd like to do something fresh for this one. Different," Neelix explains, his brow furrowed.

"What about Christmas?" The suggestion tumbles from Chakotay unusually fast, a quality very much unlike him. His ruminations on Kathryn seem to have wormed their way into his subconscious and he's suddenly worried that he might have given Neelix a dangerous weapon.

"Christmas?" The shorter man tries out the word, pleased at the way it sounds. "Christmas. What does it celebrate?"

"I honestly have no idea, but it's an ancient Earth holiday and still practiced by some." He avoids mentioning Kathryn's name, hoping to keep her from any unneeded disruptions, but if he's honest with himself, he also hopes that a Christmas party would bring her some measure of peace.

"I'll look into it. Thank you, Commander!"

Neelix bustles off just as Chakotay steps onto the turbolift. He relishes these times, the quiet, undisturbed moments of his day. Being first officer on a ship with no hope of transfer makes him the center of every department and whether he dares to admit it, it wears him out more often than not. He bears it as well as he can because he sees the burden Kathryn carries. His is certainly lighter.

The turbolift jars and then stops moving entirely. It's the third time he's been trapped in the lift in the last four days and he doesn't even bother comming Engineering. They thought they could operate on a skeleton crew, but with these odd malfunctions, he's had to request that an engineering team remain on board at all times. The average has been ten minutes, so he sits himself down on the floor and waits. By the time he reaches his quarters klaxons are blaring much to his chagrin. He lies in bed and stares at the ceiling, waiting and trying to shut out the alarm. When everything finally settles, he's relieved and he falls easily into slumber.

The next day brings more of the same and the lights cut out almost entirely during a solitary evening meal in the messhall. It's truly perverse how much he's enjoyed the isolation; quarters were reassigned, duty rosters were created well in advance, and he's managed to get in extra time on the holodeck with his boxing program. The emergency lights switch on and he's startled by the sound of the messhall doors opening. He's even more surprised by the sight of Kathryn bathed in shadows.

"I thought everything was fine." There's a lilt of humor in her voice. She takes the seat across from him, her plain, ankle length green dress falling elegantly around her. Her authority is woven intricately throughout her person and her inclination to come on board, don her uniform, and command is threatening to take over.

"It  _is_  fine. Our very capable engineering department promises me they'll have this mystery solved before we leave." He wants to assuage her worries, the ones she's having behind the glitter in her eyes and the tug of a smile on her lips. Her shoulders relax; his words have clearly settled her internal debate.

Her fingers begin to trace circles on the table. "I received an invitation for a Christmas party."

"I might have mentioned the holiday to Neelix," he freely admits. Pushing his plate aside, he sits back. "It wasn't out of line I hope. You've been distant these last few weeks and he needed a reason to celebrate."

"A win-win for everyone involved," she concedes. Her words are flat despite her pleasant expression.

It's another door she's leaving ajar and the temptation to walk through calls out to him. Too often he's kept his mouth shut and he's almost prepared to do so again except that her eyes flit up to his. She's inviting him into her thoughts, a rare, elusive gift.

"This isn't a happy time for you."

His observation gets her to open herself wider and she shakes her head. "No. It hasn't been for a long time." She drops her gaze to her hands. "I would have been married fifteen years this Christmas."

"Mark?" The numbers don't add up. He knows when they met and he knows when her erstwhile fiancé proposed.

"His name was Justin. He did covert ops which made him both mysterious and dangerous," she recollects with a tight expression.  _Justin_. It's the name of a ghost that hasn't entirely faded with time, who visits her in hidden fantasies and private what-ifs. He's her first broken dream, the one who made her lose her step and feel the jagged rocks of the path she'd blithely run until that second when he was no more.

She's gathering memories, choosing what to share and what should remain with the dead. "He died in the same accident as my father."

He knows about Admiral Edward Janeway. They'd sat together on a holographic boat on a holographic Lake George; the water had been black except where it reflected up the moonlight. As they rocked and drank champagne, Kathryn spoke of a shuttle crash and a failed attempt to save him. Guilt at his death had consumed her. Apparently it had been coupled with the guilt of killing her own lover. That she had rebounded at all was an excellent testimony to her strength of will.

"A Christmas wedding then," he connects and she nods. "If it's too painful..."

"No. It'll be a fitting tribute and I won't deny anyone else happiness."

"It's sound advice, perhaps you should do the same for yourself." Their eyes meet and remain locked on each other. Bringing her joy has been a goal to keep him from going crazy himself on this endless journey. It's difficult, like digging for diamonds with his fingernails, but when it pays off, he's the richest man on the ship.

She stands up. "I only came by to pick up a few things from my quarters. I think, given that you were the one to put the bug in Mr. Neelix's ear, that you should accompany me to the party." It's classic Kathryn tied up with an amused twist of her lips.

He can't help but return her smile. "Take me, I'm yours."

She laughs at his use of her own words. "Always, Chakotay."

The lights go to full illumination minutes after she leaves him. He doesn't see her again until the evening of the party when she beams up to meet him on board rather than have him meet her planet side. She mutters something about a pair of shoes over the comm and he's fixing an old-fashioned bow tie in anticipation of their "date". He only hopes the transporters work in order for them to actually make it to the party. He picks up a meticulously wrapped gift and when she answers the door of her quarters his heart stops at the sight of his captain in full feminine form. Seven of Nine definitely keeps the men turning their heads, but Chakotay is mesmerized by Kathryn Janeway in a floor length satin cream dress with a fully exposed neck and a skirt that flares and flows.

"The invitation said it was formal and I didn't much feel like wearing my uniform this evening," she explains. She walks with a sway of her hips telling Chakotay that she knows precisely what she's doing and the effect she's having. It'll be interesting to see the rest of the crew react to their dressed up commanding officer.

He holds out his gift. "It said in the memo that Neelix sent out that gifts were traditional."

"They are, but...I didn't expect..." Now she's caught off guard and she looks askance at the parcel. "I didn't get you anything."

"In that dress, I'll take your presence as gift enough. Open it."

At his urging she does, tearing through the red paper and finding a silver box. There's hesitation as she opens it to find a small tapestry, petite enough for her to set underneath a mug of coffee. She handles it gently, studying Chakotay's design and detail. He would have liked to have made one to hang on her wall but his weaving skills are limited. He learned what he knows from hours at his mother's side as she attempted to teach him patience. Kathryn has few personal items, a result of having been quickly called to duty with the expectation that she would be home to pick up anything else she might need; he wanted to give her something meaningful. On the underside in delicate needlework are her initials and the stardate that her command began.

"It's beautiful," she breathes. She puts it back and closes the box. "I don't know what to say. Thank you."

She sets it down on her coffee table and together they head to the turbolift. He looks forward to having her in his arms for dancing and his thoughts are still there when the lift grinds to a halt.

"Here we go again. Of course," he sighs. He taps on the console, it worked once, but no such luck this time. "If we give it ten minutes we should be going again."

"B'Elanna has no idea what's causing these malfunctions?" Even in heels and a form-fitted dress, she's wearing an invisible four pips. Tapping her comm badge that's hidden on the underside of her left strap, she's annoyed to find it isn't working. "Internal communications are down. Ten minutes you said?"

"Like clockwork."

She puts her hands on her hips, drawing the dress taut against her and Chakotay can't deny his humanity anymore than he could on New Earth. She'd been preoccupied with a monkey then though he's certain she didn't miss his eyes raking over her barely clothed form. She doesn't miss it now either and an intense beat passes between them. He's never been an exhibitionist and never one for cliché turbolift sex, but without a doubt if Kathryn offered herself, he'd be willing. Of course, she never would and that's the crux of it all.

"How long has it been?" she asks. He swears there's a slight tremble in her voice.

"Four minutes."

To his loss, she rearranges her dress so that it's not quite so revealing. It's a dangerous line she walks. She enjoys flirty banter, but will go cold if it gets too randy. She'll dress in clothes that allure, but shuts down when he responds. In the end, Chakotay accepts that she's clinging to her femininity with him because she trusts him not to take advantage; she clearly has no idea how desperately he wants to do exactly that.

"Six minutes," she mutters and she fans herself. "The environmental controls must be offline too. It's as hot as hell in here."

"Must be that thick Indiana blood of yours," he teases lightly and she levels her gaze at him. "I feel fine."

"Believe it or not, I tolerate warmer temperatures rather well. I never could deal with the cold, even before..." she trails off and swallows. "Even before the accident."

"It still affects you deeply." It's a gentle nudge, he justifies.

Kathryn shakes her head. "Not as much as it used to. I think out here I have more time to dwell whereas back home, once I got through the worst of it, I threw myself into work and life. Maybe I didn't really let go of the grief, maybe I just buried it under a mountain of paperwork."

"I don't know that we ever really get over something like that. I know I won't ever get over what happened to my planet, but somehow I find a way to live with it. You've done the same." It's a rope, a means for her to climb a little higher up the wall of the abyss towards him and towards daylight.

"I miss having a lover," she confesses softly and his heart drops to the deck below. Quickly she recovers her sense of decorum, "But I've accepted my life the way it is."

He's staring, he knows he shouldn't but this is the closest either of them has ever come to addressing the undercurrent that flows between them. "Kathryn - "

The lift drops suddenly, harshly coming to another stop and she stumbles forward, into his arms. She smells delicious and if ever there were a moment perfect for a kiss, this was it, but he can't do that to her. When he steadies her on her feet, it's as though she were being physically ripped from his body. The lift jars and pauses again and their thoughts shift from the ever increasing tension to the issue at hand.

"Perhaps we should try climbing out. The safety sensors will keep the lift from moving if the doors are open, so we should be all right," he suggests. "We have to be close to a deck or Jeffries tube hatch."

"I'm inclined to agree."

She's already opened up the compartment below the control panel and he takes the circular device to attach to the door. They count to three and use their strength to pry the doors open. They're lucky. Deck 10 is only but a small ways up. Chakotay assists Kathryn, his large hands against her slender hips and her skin is warm through the fabric of her gown. Her heels fall to the lift floor but she waves for him to leave them there. Once she's up, he takes her hand and hoists himself after her. It's emergency lighting in the corridor and everything  _feels_  very wrong.

"It's like every malfunction is happening at one time," he comments and Kathryn's eyes go wide as she puts together the pieces of the puzzle. He's right behind her and he clenches his fist. "Damn it. It can't be that simple."

Kathryn grasps her skirt in her right hand, exposing her bare ankles and similarly bare feet. "Think about it. We've been working with a skeleton crew for a week and I authorized limited tours of the ship. Ample opportunity to get on board and then ample opportunity once on board. How could we have been so naive?"

"What do you think the plan is?"

"Whatever it is, we're closest to Engineering," she notes.

"Do you think perhaps Carey was the one who caused the turbolift to stop on this deck?"

"If he didn't, it's one hell of a coincidence. Without internal communications it'd be the best way to call for backup."

Suddenly the corridor is bathed in a red glow as klaxons start to blare.  _"Self-destruct sequence initiated..._ " The mood goes from urgent to panic. With internal communications down, the computer refuses to register Kathryn's authorization codes, or his own.

"Damn it," she breathes.

"Great, we have fifteen minutes and no weapons," he grouses.

"That's not entirely true."

In an unexpected move, Kathryn hikes up her skirt, revealing a milky white thigh...with a phaser holstered to it. Chakotay is positive that if they don't die, he's going to have a hell of a time with his fantasies for the next year. They round the corner, Kathryn with her phaser extended, and they manage to catch a glimpse of their saboteur, a reptilian creature with nasty looking nodules protruding from its neck. It spots the command team and bolts in the opposite direction.

"Stop!" she shouts, firing a shot that narrowly misses its target. A single volley comes back at them and Kathryn backs up right into Chakotay's chest. Instinctively he grasps her arms until she pulls away again to see if she can get a clear shot. Unfortunately the alien is gone. She motions for him to follow as the computer reminds them that they've lost two minutes.

"He has to be headed to Engineering," he whispers. It's agonizingly slow as they round the corners not wanting to be ambushed, and yet the clock continues to tick. Even in the midst of imminent danger, he marvels at Kathryn's prowess. He wonders if she doesn't relish battle because it requires every bit of her attention, leaving nothing to remind her of her failures. There's a vibrancy coupled with determination in her expression, captivating him as she leads.

The twelve minute mark is announced and they keep moving. It's maddening not to have a weapon and he hates the helplessness. His only hope is if the alien is close enough for hand to hand combat and even then, he doesn't want to consider what that would mean for Kathryn.

By the time they reach Engineering, they have nine minutes remaining. Pressing themselves against the bulkhead, she silently counts off. One. Two. Three. He's forced to watch her run headlong into danger, waiting for the right opportunity to follow her. He inhales deeply, willing himself to be patient. When his opening comes, she's in a firefight on the lower level of Main Engineering with an unconscious lieutenant at her feet, who thankfully has a phaser still attached to his hip. Chakotay dives for the weapon, expertly grabbing it, and rolls, firing off as he does. From another corner comes more phaser fire and he manages to spy Joe Carey taking cover while the alien climbs up the second level. The computer calmly informs them that they have seven minutes until their ship explodes.

In the end, it's a sneak attack by Carey that takes down the enemy.

Kathryn wastes no time running towards the core. There's a separate back up system for the self-destruct that can be accessed should voice command fail. They might still need safety belts in their command chairs, but on occasion Starfleet has enough sense to build redundancies into their systems. He's by her side, where he's supposed to be, and as soon as she types in her code, he does his, and they both give verbal authorization. They're huddled together, his chest to her shoulder and she leans slightly into him as the alarms turn off, and remains there perhaps longer than she should.

"You should check on Carey, I'll call Tuvok," she orders, hesitating and then drawing herself away. She's all business and regulations and he experiences a sense of loss at having missed an evening with her, unguarded. He pauses, but realizes there's nothing for him to say.

He finds the hero of the hour securing the unconscious alien with cuffs and he helps hoist the unsightly creature down to the lower level. Kathryn appears seconds later, her hair in disarray and her dress ripped from hem to mid-thigh. The same thigh as the holster. He permits his gaze to surreptitiously linger, careful not to be caught by her. He's grateful he didn't notice it during the fight.

"I've got communications restored. Tuvok will be sending a contingent up to deal with our stowaway and hopefully get us some answers," she declares. "Chakotay, you're with me. Mr. Carey, watch our guest."

"Yes, Captain."

As soon as they're in the corridor, Kathryn rests against the bulkhead, adrenaline draining out of her. "So much for Christmas. I suppose I could pull out my dress uniform, but I think at this point, I'd like to just take a bath and put on something less...destroyed."

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting the hidden phaser trick."

"Tuvok didn't want me unarmed. I guess he had good instincts," she explains. Chakotay doesn't bother to point out that the Vulcan would have wanted her to carry it on her hip, a much more 'logical' location than strapped to her leg.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you planned this to get out of having to dance with me at the Christmas party."

Kathryn meets his eyes; Chakotay is aware of his proximity and the fact that she doesn't have anywhere to retreat. The right response is to step back, give her room, but he's never seen the heat climb from her breast to her cheeks before and it's fascinatingly hypnotic. Her breathing takes on an erratic tempo and the tension sizzles and crackles like sparks from a shorted fuse. This is when she pushes him away. She doesn't.

"This is all I can give you," she whispers and then her lips are on his. Chakotay pins her to the wall without hesitation, the pads of his fingers touching and tracing every centimeter of her skin and figure. He lets them skim over her breasts then settles one on her hips and the other runs its touch along the thigh he'd lusted after in the heat of battle. Kathryn's slender digits thread themselves in his short locks. He nips and tastes and when all sense nearly leaves him, he drags himself away and pivots away from her.

"Damn it, Kathryn," he hisses, the arousal creating a sense of incredible frustration. "How long have you felt like this?"

"Years."

 _Years_. Before the letter from Mark? After? During New Earth? It would take a lifetime of discussion to get all his questions answered, so he settles for one. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing." Her voice wavers and he dares to turn to her. "At this point in our journey, I can't reconcile a romantic relationship with my duty and I'm not going to ask for you to wait. I only wanted you to know."

They're at a stalemate. He wants more, he's always wanted more and now it's crystal clear that so does she. She remains trapped underneath a lake, behind a thick layer of ice. He can see her, but he can't reach her and he knows that she's drowning. Kathryn watches him with a guarded expression having given him far more than she ought to and risking herself and her heart in the process.

Holding out his hand, he assures her the way he always has, by following her lead. "Well Captain, I believe we have crew that we need to meet."

Her forcefields drop and the hint of a smile graces her lips. "They'll have a heyday when they see the captain dressed like something out of a holonovel."

"I suppose it depends on which kind of holonovel they think you're from."

She laughs, he chuckles, and arm in arm they walk down the corridor. Someday, he vows, he'll require more, but for now, he'll accept what she offers. They belong to each other, no matter what the future holds.


	2. Epilogue

There's a single light on in one of the upper rooms of the modest two-story home and Chakotay wonders if she's even here. Her assistant had informed him of her location although it's possible she had a last minute change of plans, however unlikely. He hasn't seen Kathryn for months, not since he was given command of  _Voyager_ and she took her rightful place among the admiralty. There had been communiqués and letters, but he'd remained silent on his plans to visit her.

Snow begins to fall, slowly at first and then more quickly. The ground is already covered with a powder that shines in the moonlight. He rings the chime and shifts his weight, straining to hear if there's movement behind the door. Wind kicks up and he's wrapped in the sound of whistling when the door opens.

He's thought about what he would say to her at this precise moment. He's struggled for the words to express his desires, his wants, the questions that have remained unanswered since Christmas years before. She has been the forbidden fruit dangling in front of him, the Siren, the Muse, and everything in between. It's all terribly sentimental, but years of poetry and drawings has that effect on the mind, especially his.

"Merry Christmas."

She smiles at his greeting and steps back to let him in. He follows her, kicking off his shoes and laying his jacket on a chair in the entryway.

"You came a long way to wish me glad tidings," she comments.

"I haven't taken leave in a while. It seemed like a good time." It's a half-truth. He wants to see if the situation between them is different. After the first Christmas on  _Voyager_ , while it wasn't celebrated on any large scale in the years that followed, he noticed she was softer, more open during the holiday.

She's dressed in a comfortable beige pantsuit with a sprig of holly pinned to the collar. She motions towards the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please. It's cold out there."

"Mom took Phoebe and Ambrose with the kids to look at Christmas lights and then they were headed towards a candlelight service at a nearby chapel." She scoops coffee while he marvels at how simplistic the home is. It's as though he were stepping into history, about three hundred years in the past. Modern technology has been camouflaged save a replicator that stands as an anachronism to the rest of the kitchen. Kathryn catches him staring at it. "We never had one growing up, but Mom's getting along in years and it's hard for her to cook. We finally talked her into letting us install one of them."

"I remember you mentioning something about being a child of the 24th century."

There's a lull in the conversation and as coffee percolates, the aroma wafts around them. He cannot smell coffee anywhere in the galaxy without thinking of Kathryn Janeway.

"I didn't come here merely to wish you a Merry Christmas," he confesses and when she doesn't meet his eyes, he feels rather dense. Of course she would know, how could she not? "I came here to find out... I want to know if you can reconcile a romantic relationship with your duty."

The coffeemaker sputters the last bit of hot water through the grounds and she doesn't move. She inhales and draws herself up to meet his eyes. "Yes."

The coffee is forgotten when he kisses her freely with a passion that has been forced into a pressure cooker for nearly a decade. It's what they've both wanted for years, what they've both been denied for years. This time there are no safeguards to stop the heat and she's the one that pulls him out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the bedroom. The four-post, wooden bed shifts under their combined weight. Lips fervently seek out bare skin, hands grasp at clothing, and soon he's cradled between her thighs. Amid the moans and the sighs, the bed creaks in punctuation. She's the most beautiful creature he's ever seen as she shows him what she wants and he holds her close, his face buried in her neck, as she reaches her climax. She shudders beneath him. He whispers her name.

Her hair is longer than when they arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant and it's mussed, spilled over the pillow. Her cheeks are red and her pupils are so wide that her eyes are nearly black with a thin halo of blue. He kisses her full lips and they remain entwined together, their bodies intimately connected. This moment is the complete realization of their relationship.

"How long have you felt like this?" he asks, the question reverberating from the first time he'd let the words escape.

"There was a point where Mark became an excuse instead of a reason," she replies. "And when I no longer had that..."

He smiles. "So a long time."

Her fingers reach up to trace his tattoo; he closes his eyes, relishing the tender touch.

"Thank you," she breathes. "I was afraid I'd be cold forever."

He's about to tell her how deeply he loves her when their cocoon is interrupted by the sound of children screaming downstairs. Her name is yelled amid the cacophony of squeals and trampling feet and he's worried for a fraction of a second that they're going to be discovered. The fact that the door doesn't open to small hands jiggling the doorknob relieves his concerns. Names are called and footsteps echo away from them back the way they came.

"They're going to know the second we go down there," she informs him with a throaty chuckle. "I'm certain Phoebe will be giving you a few sideways glances...if you're staying."

"Is that an invitation?"

She nods and he smiles broadly.

"Then there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

The End


End file.
